Dad?
by Byproduct of Evil
Summary: Rating may be subject to change. Another Voldy is Harry's father fic. In the summer after Harry finds out the truth about his parentage, he gets kidnapped by his dear old dad. What will happen now?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **I really should not be writing this with the fics I currently have going, but I am anyway. My other fics won't be updated as often anymore any.

**Disclaimer: **Me no owny that freak. Freak won't die. Freak twat. Freak not mine.

**Chapter 1**

They don't care about me; I can see it in their eyes. They may act like they do, but they don't, any fool can see it. And I am definitely a fool for once believing what I did.

I once thought they cared about me, not what I stood for, not what I symbolised, but I was wrong. They only care about what they think I stand for, the hope I supposedly give to millions in the magical world, but if they only knew.

If everyone was to find out who I really was still during the school, what my intentions really were, then the world would have been plunged into chaos, and the majority would lose hope or die. It pretty much did happen when they found out, though there was still hope. I was pretty tempted to tell everyone just so I could see their reaction at the time. But no, I didn't tell them. I waited until they put one foot so wrong that no one will truly be able to blame me for turning, or that until Voldemort managed to kidnap me and it would be more justifiable. And what a glorious day that was.

Now, I suppose you'll want to know what I'm on about. That's fair enough, but remember, when you've heard what I am about to tell you there is no going back. You can't erase what you have heard, and you can't erase what you know.

For starters my name is, to the entire world, at least, Harry Potter. To the entire wizarding world I am a symbol of hope, love and light. It's sickening. Everytime I think about it now I just want to go out and shout it from the treetops who I really am. But no, I will wait until the right time.

I'm a fifteen year old and I go to a magical boarding school. I also have an ugly scar on my forehead that people nearly always gape at, and if they don't gape at it they're trying not gape at it, which is probably more annoying.

I got my scar when I was one year old (this is all what the wizarding world was told, and what I was too, if you're wondering) when the most powerful dark wizard in centuries, Voldemort, killed my 'parents' and tried to kill me, only he failed thanks to my 'mothers' sacrifice. That has to be one of the best lies I've ever heard. Sure, the facts are right on how I got the bloody thing, but not about died protecting me, and who Voldemort killed. But I will tell you more about that later.

After this, old Professor Dumbledore (he's a manipulative old bastard, so if you ever meet him beware his every move, for he probably will just want to turn you into a pawn like he had done to me), took me from the wreckage of my 'parents' house (well, technically it was the gamekeeper, Hagrid, who took me, but that detail isn't really that important) and placed me with my 'uncle' 'aunt' and 'cousin' to keep me 'safe'. What that basically means is that I wouldn't turn out like Voldemort. How that was supposed to work is beyond me. Any one should realise that if they didn't want me to turn out like Voldemort then you shouldn't place me in an abusive household to grow up, just like Voldemort was. Dumbledore can be pretty idiotic at times.

As I grew up I was, essentially, my relatives slave. I was forced to do all of the chores in the house when I wasn't in school. And when I was in school I got the extreme _pleasure _of being my cousin's punching bag. What fun! I was constantly called a freak and worthless, got regular beatings and I was rarely given much to eat. Plus the presents they gave me for each of my birthdays and every Christmas I spent there were the worst. I think the best thing they ever gave me was a full box of tissues, or possibly a couple of pairs of second-hand socks. Not the sort of presents many people would ever want.

When I first got my Hogwarts letter the Dursley's (my relatives) tried, foolishly, to keep it from me. They destroyed everyone that came, until my uncle decided to have a nervous breakdown (it was pretty funny, to tell the truth) and got us to start moving around the country for a few days. We eventually ended up on this rock in the middle of the sea on the night before my birthday, and then, just as it got to midnight Hagrid broke down the door.

Hagrid is one of the few people I still consider as a friend. He helped me, and he's never lied to me, or at least I don't think he has.

Well, anyway, he gave me my Hogwarts letter and took me to London later that day. I got my school supplies, an owl and my wand (ironically the brother wand of Voldemort's) and then he gave me my ticket and he left me on a train back to Privet Drive (yes, that's alone. I was 11 years old and along on a train. And I didn't care in the least).

During my first year at Hogwarts I actually managed to get some friends (that was a big deal for me, though now I wish I hadn't befriended any of them). I also faced killer plants, giant chess sets, trolls, bucking broomsticks and Voldemort. No big deal.

In the following summer I almost got expelled because a house elf cast a hover charm on a pudding, and then the Dursley's decided it would be fun to lock me in my room (well, technically it was Dudley's second bedroom, but when my first Hogwarts letter had arrived the year before they moved me up there) and, basically, starved me.

Well, after that I got rescued by Ron (he used to be my best friend, but I'll get onto that explanation in a while) and two of his brother in a flying car. I spent the rest of the summer at their house.

Well, my second year was pretty boring, if you count facing the sixteen year old preserved form of Voldemort who had been inhabiting a diary for fifty years, some acromantulas (giant spiders that are basically like Shelob from Lord of the Rings, if you've read those books or seen those movies), basilisks (giant snakes that give a whole new meaning to the phrase 'death glare'), flying a car to school instead of taking the train like everyone else, having house elves trying to kill you in order to save your life (that's house elf logic for you), having to deal with 'freshly caught Cornish pixies' because your teacher is a complete imbecile and having to deal with rogue bludgers boring. I know I don't.

Okay, the summer before my third year my Godfather who was sent to prison for the murder of 13 people, one of whom was still alive and was actually the one who killed the other 12, all of whom were muggles (non magical folk). He was also put in Azkaban for betraying my 'parents' and selling them out to Voldemort. It was actually the same person who killed those 12 muggles who betrayed my parents, so you can guess my Godfather was pretty pissed off. Anyway, everyone though that Sirius (my Godfather) was out to get because he was supposed to be Voldemort's right hand man or something, so there was top security around the school, including some of Azkaban's guards, Dementers, around the school gates.

Dementers are amongst the worst creatures you could meet. Muggles can't see them, but they know they are there due to the feeling cold and stuff (I think a lot of muggle believe these to be ghosts, not dementers) whlst witches and wizards can both see and feel them. They're basically Grim Reapers, dementers are, only instead of bringing death, if they kiss you your soul gets torn from your body. You're still alive, but you have no memories, thoughts, actions or anything. You're basically a shell. So you can see why they brought these into the school in order to try and stop Sirius.

Well, the year went by pretty quickly with the exception of one professor who liked predicting my death every lesson we had with her. At the end of the year we discovered that one of our professors was a werewolf and the truth about Sirius and Peter Pettigrew (the one who killed those unlucky 12 muggles). After that I was almost kissed by a dementers and would have been if my future self hadn't fought off all 100 of them (it would take _way _too long to explain that).

That was my third year, and in the following summer I went to the Quidditch world cup. Some of Voldemort's Death Eater's decided to show afterwards, but not much else happened. In the actual school year there was this Triwizard tournament and I was a contestant. Voldemort came back at the end of the year and killed another of the contestants too. Yet another eventful year, as you can see.

Fifth year was pretty simple. Before the year began I nearly got expelled because I stopped a dementer from kissing both myself and my cousin (the dementer was sent to Privet Drive unofficially by the Minister's senior assistant who became that years Defence Against the Dark Arts professor). During the school year I received a life-long Quidditch ban and I discovered that there was more to my connection with Voldemort than just a scar. Unfortunately, Voldemort discovered this at about the same time and used it to his advantage (you kind of had to expect that, he is a Dark Lord, after all) which resulted in me falling into a trap and Sirius dieing.

My sixth year at Hogwarts, I don't think I'll ever forget it. The rest of the school probably won't either, come to think of it. It only finished a couple of weeks ago, and several memorable things happened all throughout the year.

Do you remember when I told you Ron _used_ to be my best mate? Well, the fact that we're not isn't due to a fight between the two of us or the same reason I no longer count any of those I used to count as friends friends any longer. The fact we're no longer best mates is due to the fact that it's kind of hard to be friends with the dead when they aren't ghosts. You probably wouldn't know if you haven't tried, but it is true. It is hard.

Ron died by, which is something I may as well explain, falling to his death. Me, Ron and our other best friend, Hermione Granger (stupid mudblood know-it-all), were walking to Transfiguration when a fight broke out somehow between Ron and Draco Malfoy (Me and Ron had never exactly… seen eye-to-eye with Malfoy, so we were constantly fighting with him), and Malfoy (we still don't know why he did it now) pushed Ron over a banister to fall to his death. Ron grabbed a hold of Malfoy in an attempt to stop himself from falling, resulting in the two of them falling down about five floors down to the entrance hall below. The two of them landed Filch, the school's caretaker and the bane of every student's existence, killing all three upon impact. It's certainly an interesting way to die and a sure fire way to get more students to attend your funeral (if you're not Filch, that is).

There were quite a few other things that happened during the year, but there was one thing that shocked me beyond belief and successfully turned me away from the Light. And I discovered it from the manipulative old bastard himself.

It was during an occlumency lesson with Fumblefuck. Occlumency is the art of cutting yourself off from your emotions and shielding yourself from any Leggilimency attacks by building up a mental barrier. Anyway, during one of these lessons (which I have to take in order to protect myself from any of Voldemort's mental attacks) I sent a spell at him when he tried to view one of my more personal memories, and I viewed one of his instead. I've done that before. It happened when Snape was still teaching me Occlumency, though he stopped teaching me after I kind of looked in his pensieve without permission and saw his worst but that's beside the point. The point is that now I am glad I saw the memory that I did.

The memory itself was of what occurred on the day of my birth, nearly sixteen years ago, which only the Old Fool knew about. I think it would be easier to show you what I saw instead of explaining it.

_-----Flashback-----_

_"No! Please! Not my baby!" a woman sobbed as she tried to protect her child from Dumbledore, who stood near her Infirmary bed, trying the take the child away._

_"Now Mrs Riddle! Give me you child immediately!" Dumbledore ordered angrily._

_The two of them argued for a short amount of time, and had a brief struggle, which ended with Dumbledore standing over the bed, the sleeping child in his arms. He quickly turned his wand on her. She, after realising that she wasn't going to get her child back, shifted as far away from her husband's nemesis as she possibly could on the bed, scowling at him._

_"You'll never get away with this Dumbledore," she snarled. "My Tom will hunt you down and make you pay for all of the crimes you have done and will do!"_

_"I have done no crime," Dumbledore responded, his eyes narrowing. "I am saving the world from another Dark Lord. Avada Kedavra!"_

_There was silence for a few moments before a couple of people entered the room, with confused expressions of their faces._

_"Ah, Lily, James," Dumbledore sad to them, any look of ménage that had previously been on his face gone as he looked at the young couple. "It's good of you to come."_

_-----End Flashback-----_

I think you can probably guess what happened next. The Potters adopted me, under the impression that my mother had been on the run from Voldemort, had gone to Hogwarts seeking refuge and had died giving birth to me, leaving me orphaned. They never even though to question what happened to my father, or who he was.

That's everything that happened in my life up to the tenth of July. It was on that day my life changed forever and all of the bitterness inside my soul finally got a decent way to be released. And I didn't kill anyone that day, if you think that. Oh no, my first kill took place much later.

I can remember that day perfectly, as if it were only yesterday. It seems strange, since so much time has past, but I can remember it nonetheless. I think it may have something to do with the fact that it was a very important day in my life that changed it totally and pointed me towards the dark even more so than Dumbledore had. Either way it probably did me a load of good, or evil, or whatever.

The whole good/evil thing seems pretty confusing to me now. I guess my father was right when he told me there was neither good nor evil, though I do not think what he said about power is true. There is more than power in the world, a whole lot more, but I'm getting distracted.

That happens a lot nowadays, me being distracted. I just wish I knew why. I will probably find out someday, though it isn't important at the minute. Right now I have a story to tell, my story of when I turned and the following events. I am Harry James Potter (we never changed my name, no one could truly be bothered and the name Harry Potter meant so much to the wizarding world, why should we change it when it gave up an advantage over them?) and this is my story.

**A/N: **Okay, everyone, what do you think? This fic is going to be long and darker than anything I've ever written before and I'd really appreciate comments, whether good or bad.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** I'm not too pleased with this chapter, but hopefully it'll do.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter or any related characters or places.

**Chapter 2**

It had been dark outside that day, and it had just started to rain. It was really going to start pouring outside in a short amount of time and I was in my room, keeping out of the Dursleys' way. I may have been the Dark Lord's son, but only Dumbledore and myself had known that at that point, Dumbledore not even knowing that I knew, and it wasn't a fact I wanted out at that point before I wasn't given another reason to change sides, one that people could not blame me for. It was a short of sick sense of justice, but it worked for me. I didn't want them to blame me for switching sides, but for them to realise it was their fault for pushing me away.

I knew the mudblood would most probably abandon me once she found out. Almost all of Gryffindor would, most likely. I think the only person that wouldn't have betrayed me would be Ron, but he was dead, so there was no chance. The Hufflepuffs, too, would turn against me. They may be loyal, but they would not stand for the Dark Lord's only child and heir, they would not stand for my betrayal. The Ravenclaws I was not too sure about. Either they would be smart enough to look at the evidence without bias to see that there was a chance thast I hadn't changed after finding out who my father was, or they would not. The Slytherins, though, would befriend me instantly, for fear of angering my father, unless my father wouldn't have acknowledged me as his son.

I cannot say I could blame my father, had he not accepted me as his only son. In truth, though several years have passes since then to now, as I recount my tale to you, I still cannot fully believe that he did.

But he did, and it all started on that rainy July afternoon when I was in my room in Privet Drive, staring blankly at a random page in one of my old school books, thinking. It would have been obvious to anyone who took the liberty of watching me at that moment that I wasn't actually reading the book. My eyes weren't moving across the page was one dead give away. Another, to anyone who actually knows me, even if they only know the front I put on for others, which was the only me that anyone actually knew then, was the fact I was trying to appear as though I was trying to appear as though I was reading on of my second year Defence Against the Dark Arts books, Break with a Banshee by Gilderoy Lockhart, which are nothing but well-researched, badly-written fiction that uses the letter 'i' more than the rest of the alphabet put together (and I'm probably underestimating that right now). And I rarely read fiction, regardless of how well or badly written it is.

The things I was thinking about were silly, insignificant things, such as Quidditch. I still missed it slightly at that point, though I don't anymore. I suppose I have Umbridge to thank for that. Thanking Umbridge - now there's something I never thought I would be doing, much less when it was about my Quidditch ban, but I was thanking her nonetheless.

The ban, too, is something I used to think would be lifted at the start of my sixth year, after all, they _had _realised that old Toady was mentally unstable, so the majority of the laws in which she had had passed whilst she was still the minister's senior assistant would be abolished due to this little fact. But they weren't, and my ban wasn't lifted.

All of Gryffindor, besides myself (I had already realised how pointless it was trying to protest against it, since there was nothing to be done) and the very small minority of Gryffindors, who, like myself, would have been better suited the Slytherin that Gryffindor, had kicked up a fuss, but to no avail. The ban stayed and they only quietened down about it after McGonagall threatened them with detention for all of them. It was an empty threat, of course (there's no way any professor, even all of them combine would be able to give detention to almost an entire house), but it worked.

Now I realise why I loved Quidditch the way that I did. It wasn't the sport at all, but just the excuse of being able to get away from the ground and into the freedom that being airborne gives you. It is truly the best feeling in the world, and one you cannot fully feel through any muggle device, so unless you are a wizard or witch and you are reading this (which I somehow doubt will be true), you won't know the fully glory of early morning flying, the spectacular dives and loops and speeds you can get on a broom, but believe me, it is an amazing feeling that I will always love. But none of this is important at the moment, as, again, I have gotten off track.

The tenth of July nineteen ninety six, that was they day. Wonderful day, in my opinion, though I can't exactly say the same about the rest of the world. It couldn't have been better. Well, besides the whole getting stunned in the place I had considered my home up until the start of that summer. Other than that, though it was great.

I suppose you're wondering how I got stunned in my own 'home', when I had Dumbledore's wards protecting me. Well, it's simple really. The wards only protected me at Privet Drive under a few conditions. I was only protected if I was inside the house (like I ever actually was inside apart from at night and occasionally for meals), and considered the place as my home. Which I didn't. Plus the ward sonly protected me from those who mean harm. The person who stunned me didn't mean me any harm, but just needed to get me out of the house.

But back to the story.

Like I said before I kept getting distracted by my own thoughts, I was in my room at the Dursley's, staring at a random page in Break with a Banshee (about page 257, I think), thinking about really insignificant things such as Quidditch on the tenth of July, nineteen ninety six. It was dark outside, and it was going to start pouring at any minute. There were even a few flashes of lightning and the sound of thunder a distance away, but that's enough about the weather. I think it's about time I actually got onto what happened. I've been putting that off for a little while.

As I've said (twice so far, maybe I should go for a record... no, it would take too long and would mean become distracted again) I was sitting in the smallest bedroom of number four (I rarely ever referred to it as _my _room, due to all of Dudley's junk that was still in there when it had been Dudley's second bedroom, back when I had the cupboard under the stairs to live in), thinking, when someone burst in. Next thing I knew someone yelled 'Stupefy' and I lost consciousness, stunned.

Have you ever been stunned? No - I don't suppose you have. Well, you probably know what it feels like when you know you are going to be sick. You can tell in the very pit of the stomach of it, and it's a feeling that only goes once you have emptied your stomach. When you get stunned it feels like that, only you don't throw up, and the feeling worsens slightly before you surroundings start to fade and go black. All of this happens in the space of less than half a second, and most people forget about this feeling, but it is there. I will always remember it, simply because of how annoying it is.

"My Lord, are you sure about this?"

It was the first voice I heard after I regained consciousness from the stunner, something in itself is supposedly unheard of as far as I knew, and I instantly knew the voice to be that of a Death Eater, the one that stunned me and father of my ex-rival. It was the voice of Lucius Malfoy.

"Are you questioning me, Lucius?"

My father's voice. I would know it anywhere. And by the sound of it he was slightly mad, though, strangely, no pain in my scar.

"N-no, My Lord."

This almost brought a smile to my lips. Lucius Malfoy stuttering, showing obvious fear. But the smile never got to my face. The two of them thought I was still unconscious, and I was not going tell them otherwise. The thought was still amusing though. The great proud Lucius Malfoy showing fear. I wish I could have taken a photo at that point. It would have made my day.

"Good. Now leave."

That was an order if I had ever heard one. Lucius seemed to hurry to obey, and I could hear his rushed footsteps, each quieter than the last as he got further and further away. He really seemed scared of my father for some reason. I wonder why.

There were a few moments of silence before I heard my father start to talk again.

"I know you're awake, Harry."

"So?" I mumbled. I still didn't open my eyes, but I could tell that my father would have a smirk on his face. People can be so predictable at times, especially when they are happy or amused.

"What's wrong?" he asked me, in an extremely patronising voice, like people tend to use when talking to little kids, or, if they're drunk then anyone who isn't drunk or isn't old enough to drink legally. "Don't tell me you're upset about being a guest in my little home."

I sat up and glared at him then. I hate being talked down to. I always have, though I have recently started getting little pieces of revenge for people that did so to me. It was nothing serious, only a few harmless pranks or spells, nothing too bad. So long as you're not on the receiving end. Most of the older Slytherins, Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs (not quite the whole school, as the professors didn't seem to learn that little lesson) learnt that during my time at Hogwarts.

"What the hell do you want Tom?" I asked annoyed. Who wouldn't when they're being talked down to? I have always been able to stand it when people talk about me as if I am not there, but when they talk to me as if I am nothing but a child then it crosses the line with me.

"I want," he said, a smirk on his face, obviously enjoying the fact that he had me riled up, though it wasn't as large as it would have been, thanks to my little reference to his proper name. "To tell you some very important news."

My father paused for a moment or two, possibly waiting for me to say something, which I did not, before carrying on, breaking whatever 'big news' he had to give me.

"I am your father."

I sat there and stared at him for a moment, as if I couldn't believe what he had just told me. Then I spoke, keeping my voice as calm as I could, my expression neutral.

"Let me get this straight… You have had me stunned and kidnapped just to break some news to me, which I have known for weeks?"

**A/N: **Okay, this chapter is like 700 words shorter than the last, but it's still pretty long for me, especially considering I've only just started aiming for 2000 words per chapter, instead of 1000, like I did before. Okay, onto my review responses.

**HecateDeMort:** Lol, thanks.

**Vegita43: **I know, I love them too! But did ya have to go and put the whole idea for another Harry/Bella fic in my head?!

**Dark Miroku: **Thanks! I plan to go into the whole first kill thing either next chapter or the one after.

**Aberforth Dumbledore: **Don't worry. Whilst I love to read slash (I gladly admit I am a slashaholic) I won't even attempt to write it. I have enough trouble with het!

**The Vampire Story Hunter: **::whimpers:: Scary reviewer! I just had to write this! And I choose option one.

**Crystalstorm21: **Thanks!

**Aspid: **Um, I take it you like fics where Harry is found to be Voldemort's son then? I'm not quite sure who he killed yet.. I think I'll leave that for you reviewers to decide… And the world will know about his parentage soon enough.

**Kungzoune: **I will!

**DOG-SEJR: **I intend to!

**Ranchan17: **Hey! Are you saying my fics aren't long enough or dark enough for you?! Well, I agree.

**Andromeda Snape-Malfoy: **Okay!

**Ryua Malfoy: **It was creepy? I don' think anyone's ever called my work _creepy _before. But thanks!

Okay, quick poll. Who should Harry's first kill be? Remember, Ron, Draco and Filch are dead, so they're out of the running, though I may go into more detail about their deaths later.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **I'm just a poor girl without the ownership of Harry Potter.

**Chapter 3**

My father stared at me for a few minutes in shock, his mouth opening and closing in a perfect imitation of a goldfish (if the situation hadn't bee so possibly life threatening I would have laughed at the idea of a Dark Lord looking like a goldfish). I suppose he had good reason to stare at me like he did though. After all, he had just told me about one of the biggest revelations to hit the magical world since the Hogwarts' founders split up and went their separate ways, and I had just sat there and told him I already knew. It took him a while to get over this little shock.

"What do you mean?" he finally asked me, his eyes narrowing dangerously at me. "Dumbledore would not have told you, it would have risked him losing his precious golden boy."

"Why do you care?" I asked, sounding slightly resentful. God, I love messing with people. "It's not like you actually give a damn."

"Just curious."

"Whatever."

Do not ask me why I gained the whole not caring attitude at that point. I don't even know myself, but whatever the reason was, it was fun. There's something undeniably amusing about being able to annoy a dark lord without getting crucioed.

"Well," he started, slightly mad (okay, I'm understating the whole thing). "If you don't tell me I will kill those muggle that raised you."

"Will I have to watch?" I asked, feigning worry and concern.

"Yes."

"…Cool! How would you kill them? Quick or slow?"

My father had probably not been expecting this, but this shock he got over quickly, and changed tactics with me soon enough, seeing that threatening the Dursleys wouldn't work.

"Well, _Harry,_" he said, stressing my name as if it were hard for him to say civilly. "If you were to tell me how you found out you were my son I might consider teaching you the Dark Arts so you could take care of them yourself."

"Hm… 'Kay!"

What can I say? The Dursleys' treated me like shit most of the time I spent with them, so revenge seemed like a good idea. It still does, actually. Plus I had had enough of the defence crap they teach at Hogwarts, so the dark arts looked like a good alternative.

"So…?"

"So what?"

"HOW THE FUCKING HELL DID YOU FIND OUT?!"

"Oh, Dumbledore was teaching me occlumency, and I accidentally saw the memory where he killed mum."

"You couldn't have told me that before?"

"And not get on your nerves?"

"You son of a bitch-"

"And a son of a bastard too."

I think - no, I know - he wanted to kill me at that moment more than he had ever wanted to before. I don't know why he didn't though. Oh well, that's not my problem, it's the rest of the world's.

**!/!/!/!/**

_'Well, if it isn't the Weasel, Mudblood and Scarhead.'_

_The three of them whirled round to come face to face with Malfoy._

_'Malfoy, what the hell do you want?' Harry said, already pissed off thanks to the Potions lesson they had just from._

_'Oh, nothing. I was just coming to see if Granger over there was still as worthless as ever. Seems I was right.'_

_Ron moved to attack Malfoy at that, but before he could move very far Harry and Hermione stopped him._

_'Ron! Don't!'_

_'That's right Granger, protect your _poor_ boyfriend.'_

_'Go screw yourself Malfoy!'_

_Ron had managed to break free of them and was currently fighting Malfoy whilst Hermione had rushed off to get a professor._

_'RON!' Harry yelled, but he didn't seem to hear him._

_The two fighters were slowly moving closer to the edge, nearer to the banister. Finally Ron had his back to it._

_'Say goodbye Weasel."_

_Malfoy shoved him._

_Ron held onto Malfoy._

_They both fell._

_'RON! NO!' Harry yelled, running over to the edge._

_Time seemed to slow as the two of them fell. Minutes seem to pass as the two fell to the floor, several stories below and until their fall was cut short with a sickening thud. They had landed on Filch._

I had had that dream many times, just as I had had dreams many times about the worst moments of my life. And do you know what I dream about now? That I dream about so many times because it was one of the worst moments of my life? The day I became friends with Hermione Granger.

**!/!/!/!/**

The Death Eaters all hated me back then, that's for sure. None of them said so, and they all tried to cover up that little fact, but they're terrible actors. There are four different groups of them that hated me for separate reason. The first group are the ones that are loyalist to my father (the ones that willingly went to Azkaban, even with a trial), who hated me because I had caused my father's demise. A second group (not quite so loyal and even though they went to Azkaban they fought not too) hated me because you could say it was partly my fault they were caught and sent to Azkaban in the first place. Then there are the most ambitious Death Eaters. They hated me because it meant that if and when my father was to die I would inherit the Dark Lord status instead of them standing a possibility. And finally we have the last group who just hated me because I was in Gryffindor house. The Death Eaters all hated me.

I could tell that they hated me back them by just doing something as simple as walking down a corridor alone. The hate that filled it was truly astounding, shocking, even. But that is not something I need to talk about at the moment. It's not really important now. There are other things that are much more so.

**A/N: **Short chapter, I know, but I ran out of ideas of things I could put in half way through without going into my ideas for following chapters. Hopefully the next couple of chapters will be longer.

For anyone who is wondering, I now I have an order for updating my fics. After I update this the next one I update will be my fic 'Powers of Darkness' and then the AU version of Powers of Darkness, followed by this, and I'll keep up that order.

**HecateDeMort: **Lol! Okay! I'll write more to this when I get the chance.

**The Vampire Story Hunter: **Yes! Scary reviewers! Stop scaring the writer! ::runs in fear::

**Eriee: **Lol! It was inspired by watching too much Star Wars!

**Shadowface: **Hmmm, good possibilities. Snape or Wormtail, eh?

**Krr84: **Ooooh! Dumbly as a first kill! Yet another good choice!

**Crystalstorm21: **Lol, like the reaction?

**Aspid: **Cool! Another two tempting victims! And would Justin's surname happen to be Finch-Fletchley.

**Ryua Malfoy: **Thanks! And now I've got seven possibilities to kill off.

**borne-shadow-childe: **Lol, thought about this a lot, haven't you? I'll consider Hermione as well, along with all of the other suggestions I've been given, but as to who goes dark… I'm not sure. With the slash you've suggested, I won't be doing that. I have enough trouble writing het.

**Anubis-sama: **Would that be in one, or each killed off separately?

**Krissy Riddle: **Hey! Like I told eriee, it came from too much Star Wars (episode IV, The Empire Strikes Back, if I'm not mistaken). And thanks for the suggestions!

**Sword Wielder - Firebreath: **Lol! Thanks!

**Pheonixrising: **Star Wars, you say? Now whatever gave you that idea? Besides the whole 'I am your father' line?


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **You ever try writing a chapter for any story and the start just wouldn't come? This chapter was like that.

**Disclaimer: **My ownership of Harry Potter is non-existent.

**Chapter 4**

**_Boy-Who-Lived Son of You-Know-Who?_**

****

_The story of how the Boy-Who-Lived got his scar is widely known by all, but there are many other, more controversial aspects of young Harry Potter's life that have been hidden from the public. But not the _Daily Prophet_ can exclusively reveal possibly the most shocking revelation about the supposed saviour of the wizarding world to date._

_It appears, due to certain adoption papers that have recently been found in an almost forgotten part of the ministry show that Harry Potter is not, as we have all been led to believe, a Potter, but was adopted mere moments after his birth and his own mother's death. The cause of the boy's mother's death is currently unknown, though the identities of both of his birth parents we can tell you._

_Though his mother wasn't too well known when she was alive his father was, and still is, one of the most feared wizards for centuries, He Who Must Not Be Named, so it seems that the Dark Lord may have killed his wife and the boy's mother after she gave birth to his heir. This disturbing fact has brought to light many questions, such as whether he should be allowed to still attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in the new school year, or whether Potter, if we can call him that any longer, should be imprisoned in Azkaban in order to prevent the rise of another Dark Lord._

My Father had been furious when he had read that letter, just a week after he kidnapped me from the Dursleys. I'm not quite sure why though. Either it was because it bad-mouthed me (something which I sincerely doubt would bother him) or because it accused him of killing my mother. Either way it got on his nerves, so I wasn't complaining too much. I was used to the _Daily Prophet_ having a go at me, it had happened so often it seemed to have lost its sting.

I can still remember the day my father read that article perfectly, though.

-----Flashback-----

My father slammed a copy of the Daily Prophet down on the table, incinerating it with a quick 'incendio', giving me barely enough time to read the headline (Boy-Who-Lived, Son of You-Know-Who?) before the paper was swallowed up by the flames and was reduced to nothing but grey ashes.

"They found out then?" I asked him calmly, infuriately my father further than I though possible. To be honest I saw no real reason why I should get worked up over something as simple as a newspaper article, even if it did reveal the truth about my parentage.

"You let it get out," he hissed accusingly at me. "You told the prophet!"

"Oh yeah," I said sarcastically. "I'm real likely to go to the Prophet and ask for an exclusive interview because I just found out my father wasn't the person who everyone believed he was, but a homicidal maniac instead."

"Well someone leaked this information out, and I was to know who!"

"Have you asked Snape?" I asked after a moment or two of silence.

"Snape? He's loyal. Why would I ask him?" my father spat at me. God, for a Dark Lord bent on taking over the world he can be dense.

"Well, let's see," I said, acting like I was talking to a five year old. "He was threatening Quirrel about the Philosophers' Stone when I was in my first year, he's a teacher at Hogwarts, a member of Dumbledore's Order, has given loads of information away about your plans in the past and his hair is greasy. Now what possible reason could there be for me to suspect that he's a leak?"

My father growled at me. "One day I am going to kill you and it will be the best day of my life."

"Whatever," I said, not exactly intimidated by his death threat. "Hey, you gonna torture or kill Snape anytime soon? Can I watch?"

-----End Flashback-----

Nothing much else happened for the rest of the summer though. Well, with the exception of when my father had Snape interrogated, tortured and left to die from his wounds, which my father wouldn't let me watch. He said it was because 'it would be a bad influence' (which is one of the worst excuses I've ever heard, considering the fact that he is a Dark Lord, so he himself is a bad influence). I believe the real reason he wouldn't let me watch (and believe me, I tried to get own there, but it was too well guarded. The paranoid bastard must thought _someone_ was trying to get down there) was simply to piss me off. After all, I had been doin nothing but that to him over the time I spent around him.

Anyways, on with the story. Nothing much else happened for the remainder of the summer, and soon enough it was time for the start of the new year at Hogwarts (I can assure you that there was a huge argument over this between dad and me, which he happened to win. Bah! Like I care that Hogwarts is the best magical school in the world! All I know is that it's run by a crackpot, manipulative old fool with an obsession with sour, disgusting muggle sweets!) and my first public appearance as the heir of the Dark Lord and of Slytherin (my father sent someone, some Death Eater, to buy the things I would need for the up and coming year) and I wasn't looking forwards to it one bit.

I arrived at King's Cross relatively early on September the first via port key, and though there was still about half an hour until the train set off, but there were quite a few people there already. Some of them looked at me, their gazes filled with hatred, whilst other - actually, no, they all looked at me the same way. With complete and utter, pure, undiluted, unrestrained, full-on hatred. It was pretty pathetic really, considering that just the previous year they had thought of me as a tragic little orphaned hero who had put up with so much pain, horror and cruelty in his short life, and the year before that as a totally insane, attention-seeking, trouble-making spoilt brat, and all of this was mainly due to what the Prophet had published. And for some crazy reason I got the impression that they might not like my father from the way they were looking at me.

I found an empty compartment quickly enough, which was the main reason I originally wanted to arrive so early. Fortunately my father had agreed, saying that he wanted to get rid of me as soon as possible, and the port key had been arranged. I just hoped that no one would want to share this compartment, as unlikely as it was. I really just wanted my privacy so I could think through a few things.

One such thing I want to think about was I had suddenly become so sadistic, wanting watch whenever someone was tortured, and to learn the dark arts so I could cause then a whole world of pain. I had no idea why I wanted to see people writhing before, screaming, clawing at the faces in attempts to stop the pain, but I did. Don't get me wrong, I would have been repulsed at the idea before that summer, would have been disgusted if I had so much as _thought_ of causing someone else pain, no matter how much they deserved it, with the possible exceptions of Dumbledore and the Dursleys.

During the summer though, I don't know. I honestly have no idea what changed. Maybe it was being away from the people I hated for long enough to truly see how much I hated them without the influence of the people who placed me with them in the first place, people who would object to the dark arts. Maybe it was being around people who thrived in causing other people pain that affected me much, or being around my only surviving relative who happened to like causing most people pain than almost anyone else that did it, but I can't be sure.

Maybe I had started changing; wanting people to be in pain, after I had found out that everything about my life had been a lie, to pay them back for everything that had been done to me because they had kept me from my birth right and my family to suit their own purposes. Maybe I was becoming more and more like my father, starting to, pretty much; hate the entire world for what had happened to me. Or maybe I was just growing up to be the person I was meant to be, finally free of any manipulations for me to be able to think straight.

Yes, that's right. My father never manipulated people. That was always Dumbledore. My father was always up front about everything, telling people what he required when they decided to entered his service and what the punishment for failure was. Dumbledore always hid everything apart from what he had to tell people to prevent them from discovering how conniving he really is. Dumbledore implied a great many things in everything that he said, giving almost everything double meanings, evading questions, changing the subject, using any knowledge he had about people against them, and making them believe that choice they make is of their own free will rather than knowing that it was only the decision Dumbledore wanted them to make.

Dumbledore treated everyone like pawns in a giant game o chess, you see, one which he was determined to be the winner. My father, on the other hand, knew that this as a war, and valued each and every supporter and follower he had, never killing them. He knew that the best chance he stood of winning the war would be to have as many followers as possible, so if he was to kill any of them it would start to deplete his numbers. Sure, his punishments were harsher on the whole, but at least he was always up front and honest about it. Dumbledore never was.

Another thing that had been bothering me was the way I had been acting to my father. You might be wondering why I was bothered about this. I wasn't sure myself. I guess it could be to do with the fact that I had expected so much more from him. I think I had had this sappy little picture in my head of my father being loving, caring and kind and that we would get along really well, but when we actually met up on friendly terms I realised it would never be like that. Not that I'm complaining. If he had been like I had thought (which was a kind of crazy thing to think or a Dark Lord) there's no way I would have enjoyed riling him up as much as I did.

I shook myself out of the reverie I had managed to get myself in and saw that the train must have left the station a while ago. The countryside was whizzing past many fields filled with farm animals, such as sheep, cows and horses, all untouched by the war that was raging in the magical world, a war that I was supposed to play an important part in.

That's something I can't really understand. How could they expect me, a sixteen year old kid, to help determine the end result in a war? I know the prophecy Dumbledore gave me in my fifth year was fake, due to the fact I couldn't be born to someone who had defied my father twice if my father was, well, my father, but Dumbledore still had me training as though the entire outcome of the war depended on me. It didn't, so there was no point in pretending it did.

I sighed and went back to staring out of the window, knowing that this year would be hard on me, what with the entire school hating me. Oh well, I would survive. I knew I would. I had to.

**A/N: **::winches:: I know I'm gonna get an earful from my reviewers for taking so long, but I swear the start of this chapter just would not come. I'm not even sure why. But I id start it. And finish it. And get over 2000 words of story. So, um, yeah.

**Pheonixrising: **But it was the one line I couldn't resist! And Harry's gonna make the Death Eaters respect him... um, in a while.

**Krissy Riddle: **Thanks! I read another fic recently from Harry's viewpoint where he was Voldy's son, but I can't remember what that was or who it was by.

**Anubis-sama: **As bloody as possible, eh? Now that I could have some fun with.

**ChaosDream: **::blushes:: Thanks! I don't think there's much else I can say.

**NatalieJ: **I couldn't resist! And you have the same first name as me!

**Lonlyheart: **Chapters? What do you call this? And the last three chapters then? Because I call them chapters.

**Phoenix**** of the Elements:  **Yes, I do realise that. They did, they just thought that she had died in child birth like Dumbledore had said.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **Is this early for an update or what?! I love my new computer - and I get the feeling you lot might too!

**Disclaimer: **If anyone claims that I own Harry Potter, then they are seriously mistaken. I just own the computer I'm typing this up on, which doesn't even have the internet because my parents know me too well.

**Chapter 5**

_"We will be arriving at Hogwarts shortly. Please leave your luggage on the train as it will be collected separately."_

That voice ran through the train, really cheerfully. Do you have any idea how annoying cheerful voices are most of the time, especially when they interrupt you when your thinking or reading or whatever? I can tell you their very annoying, especially when you happen to be thinking about some deep stuff. Or just shallow stuff like girls like I had started to by the end of the journey, which, fortunately, no one had disturbed me on, possibly because they were scared of what  I might do to them if they did. Or maybe they just thought giving me the silent treatment would get to me. Either way I was happy.

When we finally stopped I opened the door to my compartment and stepped out, only to be immediately pushed back inside by some passing kid, who I instantly recognised as the younger Creevey. Well, I suppose that's one good thing about all of it. The Creevey's seemed to hate me, so they wouldn't want anymore autographed photos. That thought almost immediately lifted my mood from extremely pissed at Creevey for his rudeness to ecstatic. Maybe being the Dark Lord's son would have a few more perks than I thought it would.

After a couple more people past I finally managed to get out of the compartment then out of the carriage, only to be faced with about a thousand death glares, which I returned with a simple sneer and a smirk. They soon went packing, terrified of something - I wonder what that could be, hmm?

Chuckling and shaking my head I made my way over to the thestrals drawn carriages, listening to Hagrid calling "Firs' Year, firs' years over 'ere!" and got in one quite near the end of the long line, giving the thestrals a pat and gaining a few strange looks coupled with more glares. Again I sneered in response and got in to find it was, fortunately, empty. I sat back and closed my eyes and settled back for the journey.

Unsurprisingly we didn't set off for a couple of minutes, though what was surprising was the fact that I heard someone entered the carriage and sit down next to me.

I opened one eye and peered at them, instantly recognising the person as Luna Lovegood. Who else could have that same vacant look about them all the time?

Luna stared off into the distance for a few moments, and the thestrals set off. Finally she blinked and turned to me, a smile on her face.

"I just want you to know," she said, her vacant look growing, as if reminiscing something. "That I don't believe any of the rubbish that they have printed about you in the Prophet recently."

I raised an eyebrow in question, though she obviously didn't see it as she was staring straight out of the window.

"And why, pray tell," Damn, that's one of my father's expressions! "Do you not believe any of it?"

She smiled absently, and, even though she had helped me out in the past back in fifth year when I had fallen for one of my father traps, I truly understood why she was called Loony Lovegood by everyone at the school.

"Because," her smile grew as she tipped her head to one side, still staring out. "The Prophet has discredited you in the past, why should they stop now?"

I shook my head in disbelief  at her logic. Yep, she's definitely insane. Who in their right mind would risk alienation by the entire student population over one little (okay, maybe not so little) thing? Well, besides me, of course.

In order to pass time - and to hopefully avoid anymore conversation I leaned out of the window and looked up at the castle gates. We were approaching quickly, and pretty soon I knew I would be facing the Spanish Inquisition from Dumbass- I mean Dumbledore and possibly McGonagall, probably to try and get me to change houses to Slytherin, not wanting such a dark influence around their precious little Gryffindors. As if I would switch houses, or even get resorted! By staying in Gryffindor it was probably the best way to piss my father off - besides getting sorted into Hufflepuff, that is.

Sure enough, as soon as I stepped out of the carriage I was faced with an even sterner faced McGonagall than usual. She almost looked like she had been told by Trelawney that Gryffindor was going to beat Slytherin in the house cup by over 200 hundred points.

"Potter! The Headmaster needs to see you!"

I rolled my eyes, but followed her silently up to Dumbledore's office (the password was 'sugar-coated, sugar-flavoured anti-fluoride for those nerds out there that are wondering). She briskly knocked, before turning and walking away, obviously getting down to the sorting as quickly as she could.

"Come in Harry," Dumbledore said. Well, to give the old guy some credit, at least he didn't pretend like he didn't know it was me..

The inside of the office was the same as ever - filled with trinkets and portraits of prior Headmasters and mistresses who had long since retired. I nodded to about the only one I knew (Phineas Nigellus) before walking over to Dumbledore's desk and sat down in one of the two chairs in front of it, waiting for him to start.

"Harry," he said, peering at me over the top of his glasses, his blue eyes lacking that customary annoying twinkle. "I'd like to know if what they have printed in the Daily Prophet is, for once, true."

Okay, here comes to acting. Talk about annoying.

"Professor, if anyone should know, it should be you," I said, hate rising to my voice. I cut him off before he could say anything else. "You knew all along whom my parents were, yet you kept me believing they were the Potters so not to spoil your own name with the murder of my mother!"

Okay, I was mad. The last time I had been that mad I kinda wrecked his office without meaning to.

Dumbledore's eyes hardened there and then, and he began glaring at me, someone I had never seen the old man do before. It was quite a shock really.

"So you know," he said, coldness and hate that had never been there before filling his voice. You can see now why I think of him as a manipulative old bastard, can't you? I nodded anyway. "Make no mistake, boy, that I will be watching every move you make from now on, so if you do anything on your father's orders I will know, and maybe I can finally get rid of you and rid this school from the heirs of Slytherin for good."

We stayed there, glaring for a few minutes, non-stop before I got up to leave. I had had enough of him for one day, for a life time, even.

Down in the Great Hall the sorting was already over, thankfully, and I sat down at the one empty space at the Gryffindor table, only to find myself face with more glares. Gee, this would be an interesting year if I only had Loony Lovegood for company!

The feast was pretty much bog-standard for a Hogwarts feast, and Dumbledore gave his usual start-of-turn speech (forbidden forest is called that for a reason, new Defence teacher, no magic in the corridors, yada yada yada) and he introduced the new Potions Professor due to an untimely death of Snape (which my father wouldn't let me watch! Damn him!). Nothing really interesting. Then he sent us off to bed.

The Gryffindor tower was the same as ever. Gold and blood red everywhere. I want to know why Godric Gryffindor had an obsession with blood red. Was he a vampire or something? Whatever.

"Potter," I heard Hermione snarl out from behind me. "I see you had to gaul to show your face in here. Why don't you go down to the dungeons where the rest of the snakes live?"

I whirled round, and glared at her, wondering how the hell I could have considered her a friend at any point. This would just go to show that I was wrong to.

There were a quite a few people chorusing their agreements with the mudblood, all obviously wanting to get rid of me.

"Why shouldn't I show myself here?" I growled at her. "I've been as much a part of this house for the past six years as any of you. Just because the world now knows who my parents are doesn't change the person I am!"

They just carried on glaring at me, and I walked away, ignoring everything, just trying to get up to my dorm. I knew I had to ward all of my stuff against them if I wanted to keep it in any usable condition at all.

**A/N: **I LOVE MY NEW COMPUTER! ::hugs computer:: This is the what, third, forth time I've updated it since I got it earlier this week! Isn't that cool?! Okay, maybe not cool, but whatever!

**NtoKo: **Thanks!

**NatalieJ: **Thanks for the idea about Luna! I just had to use it!

**Serpentiana: **Thanks! And the idea isn't _that _old. I've not even seen 20 of them!

**Shadowface: **Here ya go!

**Kage Mirai: **Thanks!

**HecateDeMort: **I am not turning Hermione dark! I couldn't do that, no matter what!

**Belletrixie: **I know he lied. Wormtail is part of the proof of that. And I only killed Draco off because if could be quite possible that if I hadn't people may have started asking for romance between the two and I have too much trouble with het, never mind slash.

**Krissy Riddle: **Of course he's gonna have a tough time at school! If it were gonna be fun then I'd get bored! And I wouldn't be able to write as many comments on Harry's part.

**The Vampire Story Hunter: **::growls:: If you're just going to insult my work then I suggest you stp reading. I hate it when people start insulting my work.

**Demented Chook: **Well do you honestly think that after hating one another for so long it'd be possible for them to have a loving, caring father-son relationship? Because I don't.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **Sorry about the delay everyone! But I was on holiday for a week, and then I had to update my other two fics before I updated this, and I had loads of trouble with one of them (I did! I accidentally deleted the file from my floppy disk!). And because it seems like I'm making excuses now, I'm just gonna get on with the fic.

**Disclaimer: **Do I really have to say this? Come on! Don't make me say it! I've said it like eighty times in total! Surely you get the idea by now! Fine! I'll say it, but you're not getting a cookie! I do not own Harry Potter, or any characters or places associated with him. Happy now? No? NO?! YOU'RE NOT HAPPY?! FINE THEN!! ::punches disclaimer:: Bloody legalities!

**Chapter six**

First day back at Hogwarts was hell. It really was. But you probably have no idea what I mean by that, unless, you have had everyone in your school hate at the same time, including the staff, who are not meant to be biased against any of the students (as if that's true), have had your entire school hate and fear you for something you have no control over and a headmaster who has decided to make things difficult for you because your father happens to be leading an actual war again the current ideals lifestyles of the world as it is, and let's face it, it's unlikely you have been through that.

But my first day of my seventh year was hell. Fortunately there was no Malfoy for me to have to deal with, but, unfortunately, no Ron to joke around with. There wasn't anyone I could turn to in the school, or, even, the world that I could turn to with my problems and troubles anymore (besides Luna, and God only knows that I would never talk to that lunatic unless I had to at that point), but there was no way I was going to give the satisfaction of knowing that. It's a very important lesson to learn: Never give your enemies extra ammunition. It's basically digging your own grave.

My first lesson on the first day of my last year at Hogwarts was Transfiguration, with my dear _old _head of house, Professor McGonagall. As soon as I read that on my timetable I felt a strange feeling of impending doom. It was, weirdly enough, a foreign feeling to, despite all of the times myself and my father had fought against one another, him trying to kill me and me just trying to get away with my life and all of my limbs intact.

I arrived at the Transfiguration classroom a couple of minutes early, but there were already a few people there, including the mudblood, along with her new best friend (and also a bitch of a mudblood), Lavender Brown (Parvati Patil having been killed at some point during the summer, not sure when). I really don't know why they became friends. They have very little in common. Granger is a total bookworm who is definitely not the most interesting of people, and Brown prefers, from what I can gather, talk about make-up and guys and detests talking about something that could be counted as educational. I think the only thing that they could possibly have had in common was how much they hated me.

I'm not quite sure when, as I was there during all of the start-of-term feast and breakfast, but at some point since I had gotten to Hogwarts Dumbledore had poisoned the school even further against me by simply telling them the truth, probably mixed with a few little (and not so little) lies. The old man really is a master manipulator. It's almost shocking how easily he does it, but, then, this _is _a Dumbledore, and their family has, strangely enough, build up a reputation among the darker families of the wizarding world as the most manipulative family you would ever meet. The current most famous Dumbledore (you know the one, my _esteemed _headmaster) has managed to shatter that reputation among the lighter half by, you guessed it, more manipulation. The world was really dumb to not realise that they were constantly being controlled by the old twit.

Dumbledore had even gotten to the professors and turned them against me, though I suppose that was hardly surprising. He would surely have spoken to them first, most probably telling them that the rumours about me being Voldemort's son were false, but I had been kidnapped by him, would most probably believe otherwise on my return to Hogwarts, if I returned, and that I was most probably a hopeless case by the time school started up again. And people wonder why I hate Dumbledore.

"Welcome back class," McGonagall had said, starting the lesson after letting us in. "This is a very important year for you. You NEWTs are coming up."

There was a series of groans throughout the room, and quickly enough I realised she was giving us the whole speech we had been given by most of our Professors in our OWL years, only with a few slight changes, but the gist of it would be the same. Important exams... Good marks could really help you out with your chosen career... Your life depended on the results... Yada, yada, yada. You get the idea. Anyway, it was totally boring, so I just, kinda, tuned out, which wasn't good because she pretty quickly got off that speech and started to talk about something else.

I think she may have spotted the fact that I looked like I wasn't listening and decided to make sure if it was true by asking me a question, which I totally missed.

"POTTER!" she yelled at me, causing me to snap out of my thoughts. "Were you even listening at all this lesson?"

I looked up at her, feeling slightly sheepish, trying to think what I could say that she would believe. Then it came to me. Honesty was probably the best policy at this point.

"Um, no?"

I could tell she wanted to scream at that point, but, as you can probably expect and appreciate, she didn't. She took a fair few points from Gryffindor as punishment though, but losing point didn't bother me too much. They weren't even real, just some metaphorical way to boost the morale of all of the school (apart from the three quarters of the school that lost, of course) and a way to help keep the students in line that didn't always work too well.

She didn't really bother me for the rest of the lesson, though that may have been because I was actually paying a little more attention and actually listening. Whatever the reason it at least got her off of my back and I was glad. Professors are really annoying when they pick on you deliberately.

The next class I had was Potions, with our brand new Professor, Professor Reginald Occuren. I wasn't particularly looking forwards to it. You see, no matter how much I had hated Snape, I hated to subject he taught more. It took too much precision for my liking to get the correct results, and I've never been one for being exact.

Down in the dungeons when we were waiting for Occuren to arrive (it was all of the seventh years that had gotten into the class that were there, since there was only about ten of us who had gotten a sufficient grade for Snape to allow us into the NEWT level class) nothing much happened. The Slytherin's were doing their best to ignore me (probably wishing they could curse me into a thousand little pieces, but couldn't, because not only were they not brave enough to do that to the Dark Lord's only child, but also the only person who even attempted to curse him at Hogwarts before had been Malfoy and he had never been successful) though they were sending me glares whenever they thought I wasn't looking, whilst those in Ravenclaw and Gryffindor were just glaring flat out, and the couple of Hufflepuffs that were in the class were just glancing nervously at me.

When Occuren finally arrived I got my first good look at him. He wasn't that different from Snape, just not quite as hard on the eyes.

"Get in quickly," he snapped, making a few people groan as they thought that Occuren would be as bad as Snape. Little did they know they were wrong: he would be worse.

Everyone sat down quickly and silently, not wanting to get on this professor's bad for all of the money in the world.

"This lesson we will be covering the basic theories behind most of the potions you have made over the past six years here. No doubt your previous _professor_," he sneered as he said the word professor, seemingly doubting that Snape could have actually been counted as a professor of any kind. "Neglected to teach them to you at any point."

"But sir," Granger said, scowling Occuren. Obviously she didn't like him anymore than any of the rest of us. Or maybe she just didn't like the obvious disrespect he had for the dead (a death which I still hate my father for not at least letting me watch!). "We've-"

"Miss Granger, isn't it?" Occuren said icily, and continued once he nodded the affirmative. "You will do well in my classroom not to speak without raising your hand first."

She raised her hand, her scowl deepening and Occuren nodded to her, giving her permission to speak. This was almost like the whole Umbridge incident all over again, though with two exceptions: Dumbledore had appointed Occuren, not the Ministry, and Occuren didn't ignore people if they had spoken out of turn and then put their hand up after reminding them about it.

"Sir, we've already been taught the theories and basic principles behind the potions!"

I can tell you right here and now that Occuren did not like being told anything. You see, his face kind of swelled up, and turned a pale-ish purple colour in fury. A vein bulged on his forehead and his fists clenched. To be honest, he looked an awful lot like Vernon did when I really got under his skin. It wasn't a pretty site.

"Miss Granger," he started out, using the same dangerous Snape had often used against me in his classes. "Am I right in thinking that you are questioning my lesson plan?"

Granger shook her head, and a small smirk appeared on his face.

"Are you a qualified Potion's Master and Professor?"

Granger shook her head again, a look of confusion on her face. God, that was funny.

"Are you questioning my competency, and that of the head master for hiring me?"

Again Granger shook her head, and the rest of us, or at least I was, were on the edge of our seats, wanting to know what he would do.

"Then kindly shut up."

It was as simple as that. Within five minutes into his lesson Occuren had insulted our dead ex-professor's competency, managed to get most of us more scared of him than Snape had managed in six years and managed to put a look of absolute confusion of Granger's ugly face. Things were certainly going to be different.

The lesson itself was far more boring that I could have imagined, with Occuren getting more and more strict as it progressed, and it only served to strengthen my hatred of the subject. So you can imagine my relief when it ended, relief which was quickly cut short when Occuren told me to stay behind. As your can guess, nerves started to kick in. No one would want to be trapped in a room with that man, especially not after the lesson from hell with him.

The other students filed out quickly, not wanting to spend another second in the same room as him ever again, though they must have known it wouldn't be possible, and they didn't even spare me a glance. They probably felt that no one deserved to be stuck in there any longer after class, but they weren't going to show me sympathy. It might give the idea that they've forgiven myself and my father for being born.

"Mr Potter," Occuren said, looking at me with a gleam in his eye and an expression on his face that I couldn't quite identify. It probably wasn't good, whatever it was.

**A/N: **::laughs uncontrollably:: I know I may get loads of death threats for that, but who cares?! I haven't received a good death threat in ages! Woohoo! Death Threats! I can hardly wait!

Unless I don't get any death threats... then I may go cry! WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!!!!!!!! I WANT DEATH THREATS! GIMME SOME DEATH THREATS! GIMME SOME DEATH THREATS! GIMME SOME DEATH THREATS NOW! I WANT DEATH THREATS! GIMME THE DEATH THREATS!

Okay, I think I recovered from that little outburst. Onto the reviews!

**Krissy Riddle: **Well of course it fits his character. It fits Dumbledore because he is one. I'm making you jealous? Yay!

**Shadowface: **Okies!

**The Vampire Story Hunter: **You wanted to subtly motivate me to do better? Well, either worked subconsciously, or it didn't work at al because I'm not actually trying to make this any better, just writing it as go along.

**Ranchan17: **Thanks for letting me know!

**Kage Mirai: **Which is precisely why I love Slytherin!

**Serpentiana: **Harry may get some friends. It depends on what I think as I'm writing. If he does get some friends they'll most likely be Slytherins though. And hard? To make the old fart sound mean? I found it quite easy, to tell the truth.

**NatalieJ: **Why haven't they?! It was a good idea!

**123: **Thanks! His cynicism pretty easy to write, I just put in how I think I would feel.

**Wanamaker: **Thanks!

**ChaosDream: **Thanks! Here's the update!

**Slytherinheart: **Of course it wouldn't. A loving Voldemort seems really unlikely.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: **Yay! Seven death threats! I love you guys for them!

Sorry about the delay with the chapter, but I really couldn't get a good start that I could continue with in this, and I wanted to make it super long too, so that explains the lateness, even if it didn't get to the length I had hoped it would)

**Disclaimer:** I own none of the Harry Potter, or any related characters or place, with the exception of the five books (three of which don't technically belong to me) and the two movies (both of which actually belong to my parents).

**Chapter seven**

Do you know that feeling you can sometimes get where you think things couldn't possibly get any worse? I do, and I was feeling at that particular moment when Occuren was looking at me. Little did I know how often that feeling is followed by an event of some sort that usually makes it far worse.

"Tell me Mr Potter, is what the papers are reporting about _you_ being _He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's_ soul _son_ and _heir_ true?" Occuren asked me in a tone that unnerved me. I'm fairly sure I know why his tone unsettled me. It was too calm, level and controlled for anyone who was mentioning my father. Normally they would speak in a cold voice, filled with hatred, or seem totally terrified, both of which are perfectly normal reactions. However, Occuren's control of his voice was, I don't know, it was like the calm before the storm. I expected him to blow up at any moment, though not literally. I've only ever had experience with one person literally blowing up, and I _was_ partly to blame, I suppose.

"Um, yes they are sir," I said carefully, still not quite sure about what to expect

There was a triumphant gleam in Occuren's eye when I told him the truth, one very similar to the one that had appeared in Dumbledore's eye when I told him that my father had returned to power back at the end of my forth year (I have never been able to figured out why he had looked that way, but he did). The look was odd, and out of place, but I chose to ignore it then. There was no point in worrying about something as insubstantial as a look in someone's eye when it wasn't murderous or dangerous, now was there? Okay, in hindsight, maybe I should have paid it more attention, and tried to find out the reason behind it, but I couldn't be bothered.

"Very well Potter," Occuren sneered at me. "You may go."

He ushered me quickly out of the classroom, and I made my way down to the Great Hall for Lunch, contemplating just what had happened so far that day.

I was faced with the usual glares and hate-filled curious glances (yes, that's right, hate-filled _curious_ glances. Apparently they all wanted to gawk at the supposed future Dark Lord as they had wanted to gawk at me when I was plain old Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Survived-The-Killing-Curse-But-Nobody-Could-Be-Bothered-To-Think-Up-A- Decent-Title-For) as I walked down to the Hall, and when I got inside too. It was almost enough to put me off my food! Though not quite. Nothing sort of... well, nothing, could actually put me off my food. Needless to say, I quickly tucked into the food prepared by the house elves, just managing to ignore them. Well, until Ginny came along, that was.

Ginny, being the new best friend of Granger, ex-president of the Harry Potter fan club and the co-president of the MHPLHC (Make Harry Potter's Life Hell Club) seemed to have stopped liking me for some reason. I think it was down to the fact that my father's diary from when he was sixteen possessed her when she was eleven, forcing her to open the Chamber of Secrets and petrify several muggleborns in the school, including a ghost, but who knows how the mind of women work? It could have just as easily been PMS. Whatever the reason was, she didn't exactly seemed to want to make my life easy for me, so she decided to approach me during Lunch when she knew I wouldn't do anything to her in front of teachers, as it would most probably get myself expelled. Well, she thought I wouldn't at least. You, however, will realise that I really did not want to be at Hogwarts, so I was really just looking for a reason to get expelled (how I managed to stand that bunch of hypocrites before is beyond me), and she would provide it.

My eyes flicked up to the redheaded freckled, two-faced bitch whose life I saved back in my second year and saw that she wanted trouble. It was obvious from the look she was giving me. Complete and utter loathing. It was very similar to one my father used to me, still does in fact, though not to the same intensity, but I'm getting distracted. I tend to do that a lot, if you couldn't tell. In fact, right now I'm getting distracted by being distracted, if you get my meaning, which I doubt.

So, like I was saying, she really wanted to get a rise out of my (which would undoubtedly give Bumblefuck reason to expelled me, much to my glee and my father's hatred), so she was looking down at me, smirking (not a common or pleasant sight on a Weasleys face unless it's the twins, and it's still scary, I can assure you).

"Yes?" I asked her all polite like, and she did nothing but smirk evilly (and I thought my father and I were supposed to be the evil ones according to them), which on its own was more than enough reason for me to suspect unfair play. I quickly stopped eating thinking that the food could have been poisoned (yes, they may be Gryffindors and total goody-goodies, but the Marauders were Gryffindors, enough said), got up from the table and left the hall, thankful that nearly everyone was in there.

I sighed, and realised that I didn't have any more classes that day. Sometimes being in NEWT level classes was infuriating... but not then. I don't think I could have faced any more lessons that day. Still, it did leave me the question of what to spend the remainder of my day doing. With no one in the school who I would willingly spend time with, I had nothing to do, so the idea came upon me to visit the owlery, possibly send a letter to My Father (what better way to bug someone? By owl so they can't curse you into oblivion, only the owl!).

The Owlery is at the top of one of the taller towers, if you didn't know, and the circular walls are lined with perches (all covered with owl excrements) with one or two parts of the wall free of them. I leaned against one of these clear sections, my back to the wall, as I pulled out a piece of paper (yes, paper, not parchment) and an ordinary muggle pen (I really couldn't not be bothered with a quill, and besides, pens are cheaper, the ones I use costing little more that five pence) before settling down to write the most annoying letter I could.

_Hey Dad! _(I wrote, and he truly hates it when I refer to him as dad, so there's no need to guess why I called him that)

_Did you know the entire school hates you? It's really quite annoying. You need to work on your public relations. I mean, would it really hurt your image so much to be nice every once in a while? _(I could practically see how he could react to this, and I almost felt sorry for the poor owl that would end up facing his wrath)_ It would make the whole World Domination kick a lot easier._

_If you're wondering why I'm writing to you when I should be in class, I'm writing to you to annoy you (as if I'd do anything else) and because I don't have any classes this afternoon. And I need to tell you about an interesting development. And that is... I SHOULD BE ABLE TO GET MYSELF EXPELLED IN A COUPLE OF DAYS! Isn't that wonderful? I can bug you the same amount I had been during the summer! _(That really pissed him off)

_From your son,_

_Harry_

_P.S: Remember the **muggle** saying: Don't shoot the messenger._

I deliberately went over the word 'muggle' again and underlined it before sending it off. He truly hates anything muggle related, and since the letter was written in _muggle_ pen and on _muggle_ paper, and included a _muggle_ saying, I'd say he would be fairly pissed off at it, without the fact it was from me added to it.

You know, I'm not quite sure why I decided to end a letter to piss him off. I suppose muggle psychiatrists would say it was my way of communicating with him, as I couldn't do it in any other way after hating him for so long. That just goes to show they know jack-shit about why I bugged the hell outta my father. True, I didn't know why myself, but if I didn't understand why, then they shouldn't either.

The next morning, after a couple of fights in the common room (which I didn't start,. but got the blame for anyway) the previous night, I received my first ever howler. Howlers are a very important part of every young witch and wizard's life, and their first is always special. Mine went as follows:

"HOW DARE YOU SEND ME THAT LETTER?! YOU WILL BE IN SO MUCH TROUBLE WHEN YOU COME BACK HERE FOR CHRISTMAS THAT I WILL PERSONALLY MAKE SURE YOU ARE UNABLE TO MOVE FOR A WEEK! AND IF YOU DARE TO GET EXPELLED I WILL MAKE SURE IT IS A MONTH! I HOPE I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR, AND IF I DON'T, THEN HERE'S AN EXAMPLE OF WHAT I'M GOING TO PUT YOU THROUGH!"

I shudder as I remember the next bit. I can hardly believe that even he would lower himself to such levels, it was inhumane!

"I LOVE YOU, YOU LOVE ME..."

Those word's started to fill the room in the voice of Barney the Purple Singing Dinosaur filled the room, and all of the muggleborns, or those who had any knowledge of muggle TV ran from the room screaming, whilst those with none went kind of... pale faced.

"WE'RE A HAPPY FAMILY..."

The howler stopped there, bursting into flames, and I was truly glad. At the first words of the song I had been fixed in place in horror. My father truly did know how to torture people (especially teenagers).

**A/N: **::shudders:: That song is the worst torture known to man. I seriously don't know how little kids can watch Barney, especially since they're usually terrified of a lot of things. Come, let's face it, giant singing dinosaurs are genuinely scary, and if I saw one in the middle of the street, I would be with the millions of people running away screaming.

**Marvin the Depressed Robot(42: **Too right!

**Kage Mirai: **Too write you can't complain!

**NatalieJ: **What?! Why not?! And it's good to have funny feelings about new characters.

**ChaosDream:** Thanks!

**HecateDeMort:** Well, since you asked so nicely (and said please several hundred times) I will just have to do that at some point.

**BalrogMan65: **Oh! Yay! And I'll probably do that.

**Shadowface: **K!

**Ciara: **Yeah, well, I'll probably work on their relationship a bit as time goes along, but right now it's more fun to have Harry annoy the hell out of Voldemort. Harry probably will be under the cruciatus for like a couple of seconds every so often later on. And Harry is already partly insane.

**Hannah Abby: **Okay, once you decide what to do to me tell me. But make sure I can still type, because otherwise the delays will be humungous.

**Jory: **Yes, I was serious about the death threats. I don't get anywhere near enough of them. And that threat was pretty good for a newbie threantener, but try to add more detail into how you will kill me, such as strangulation, poison, skinning me alive, grinding my bones you make your bread, etc.

**Ranchan17: **Thank you!

**Wytil: **Oooooh! A job in a cemetery! Wonderful idea!

**Aspid: **Ah, that was only a small taster of what Occuren will be like, he's gonna be a whole lot tougher than that. As to Draco, in the first chapter I explained that Draco was fighting with Ron, they both fell off a balcony and crushed Filch. The relationship between Voldie and Voldie Jr. (lovely nickname, don't you think?) will improve, but it will never exactly be caring.

**Ss: **I'm not actually gonna go back and change that since I have no trouble with it. And it's a pity very fics have Ron dead straight the way.

**Anonymous: **Well, I'm writing it, and I don't see the logic in Ron accepting the fact more either, but I wanted this fic to be different, and by having it that way around it certainly is.

**Someone: **Very true. I must remember to kill him off more often.

**Krissy Riddle:** Well, Occuren's the type of teacher people would kill _not_ to have. And thanks for the death threat!

**Happy Hyper Bunny Lover: **Ick! Fluffy romance! Ick ick ick! I hate fluffy romance!

**borne-shadow-childe: **Wicked! That is one of the best threats I have ever received! I'm not sure if I should be worried or not, but still, it's cool!

**Sykoticstalker27: **Fine, but your flattery won't get me to update much faster.

**Crouchintiger: **There's was no meaning in the cliffie, I just wanted death threats. As for how Occuren feels about Harry, you'll just have to wait and see.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** Well hello again. Still reading after this long? That truly is amazing.

Oh, and please excuse any opinions in this chapter about, well, everything that there's an opinion about in this chapter. It isn't necessarily true for everyone, but it is for some.

**Disclaimer: **Not mine. The fact that I'm disclaiming should be enough to tell you that.

**Chapter 8**

Some people may be wondering as they read this what the purpose of me writing down my story is. Well, the answer is simple. Though the story of my life as the Boy-Who-Lived is well documented, the life (what I feel like especially) after I fell from public favour is normally ignored, or simply brushed over as it being my own fault as to everything that I did afterwards. That just goes to show how stupid the world is. I myself am just a kid, but Merlin only knows I've been through loads.

But that is not what this part of my tale is truly about. This section is about what happened the day I got back to my Father's home for Christmas.

Christmas is supposed to be a fun time isn't it? Filled with happiness, giving and spent around family? Well you obviously don't realise what a load of bull that is. Sure, that's there sometimes, but not usually. Usually it's a time of greed, commercialisation and want, which are all terrible things.

It's like, the better a time is meant to be, the worse it actually is, but you don't care about that, do you? You probably just want me to get on with how my first Christmas with actually blood relatives went, don't you? Well, I can tell you in three words: It was total and utter crap. Okay, make that six words.

The day I got back I immediately went to my room, there being no way in high heaven, hell and limbo that I would willingly socialise with people that had tried to kill me so many times and failed (honestly, you'd think they could get it right at least _once_, wouldn't you?). Well, regardless of that, my father decided that he wanted to see me so he sent my _favourite _(kindly note the sarcasm) to fetch me. He just had to use Bellatrix Lestrange of course.

Well, what you may or may not know (I certainly haven't told you, that's for sure) is that the person who sent the curse that sent my godfather, Sirius, through a curtain (the correct term may be veil, but do you think I actually care?) which killed him (unbelievable that a curtain could cause a death, I know, but it did) was his own cousin. That cousin also happens to be one of my Father's Death Eaters, and that Death Eater happens to be Bellatrix Lestrange. I really hate her. Don't ask me why (okay, so there's the obvious reason) but I've never been able to stand her. Could be because she's a total bitch.

"Lickle baby Potter-kins," the crazy bitch giggled, calling into my room. Oh, did I forget to mention that she is genuinely insane, and it isn't just me insulting her? That's what the effects of prolonged exposure to dementers can do to a person. "Your Daddy wants to see you."

Okay, so I may hate her, but she certainly does make things slightly more interesting around the 'Death Eater Palace' (wonderful thing to call the place, don you agree?). She is, after all - being the most insane of the loonies here - the only one with the gall (besides myself) to call my father my 'daddy'. Interesting, no?

"Lestrange," I growled at her, and she just giggled. Honestly, she lacks even more sanity than Lovegood. "What does my 'Daddy', as you so eloquently put it, want?"

She smiled at me then. Gawd, she's annoying.

"Your Daddy just said he wanted to see you. I no ask Master why."

I rolled her eyes at that comment. Why my father insisted on everyone calling him 'master' or 'my lord' is beyond me. Okay, so no it isn't, but you know what I mean, right? Well, maybe you don't, since I'm not even sure myself. Hmm, maybe I'm losing what small amount of sanity I had left now.

You know, I think I heard a rumour once that my father was having an affair with her. None of it was true of course, but the rumours were still there. I think they came about because she was the only female Death Eater in the inner circle and because she was the only Death Eater my father called by a shortened version of their first name. The thought's disturbing, but I suppose I will survive, considering they were all false.

Well, anyway, I followed Lestrange, who was walking around in a kind of dream-like (maybe nightmare-like would be slightly more accurate) trance towards my father's main chambers.

I'll never understand a lot of things about my father. The main one is his fascination with the skulls of the people he had killed. Sure, I know it was a tradition in some culture way back when to drink blood from the skull of your enemy, supposedly giving yourself more power or something, but come on. We live in the twentieth century. Nowadays that kind of thing is just creepy. Cool, but still way creepy.

Well, as I've just mentioned, my father has a fascination with human skulls, but what you don't know is what his fascination is. He has literally shelves of human skulls of all sizes, complete with the lower jaw and all of the teeth, all around some of the main rooms that are used. I think he thinks it looks intimidating. Well, I'm not going to be the one to break it too him that so many of them isn't. You can if you want. Just don't let him decorate your house afterwards. Or before, for that matter.

"_Cruccio,_" my dad hissed. For those of you that have never had the _distinct pleasure_ of being under the cruciatus curse, or have never heard of it, let me tell you a few things about it. First off, when it hits you you feel like you are being stabbed hundreds of times with sharp, pointy and shiny knives. Then (no, the pain doesn't lessen) you wish for either to black out or to die, whichever is first. Usually, by the time you reach that point the person who cast the curse lifts it, and you have to deal with the after-effects of shaking, shivering, convulsing, sore throat, a few scratches, stuff like that. Fortunately for me, the curse wasn't kept on long enough for me to have to deal with the after effects.

"What the fuck did you do that for?!" I yelled at him. Yes, I do have quite a mouth on me, don't you agree?

"That," My father said, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "Was for that letter you sent me back in September, and I hope it will teach you some respect."

I glowered at the man, and a few minutes of silence pass, neither of us willing to break it, when my father finally became too uncomfortable with it.

"I believe, my son," here he spat out the word 'son' like it was Bumblefuck's name. "I said I would teach you the Dark Arts to get revenge on those pathetic muggles that ended up bringing you up, something which they hardly did a good job of."

My heart leapt at the prospect of being taught the Dark Arts. Finally! I had been waiting for, how long was it? Three months? Four? It didn't matter. I had waited too long for this. I hadn't even been able to check some books out of the library at Hogwarts, because they all thought I would be using the books for my education in the Dark Arts. Stupid, paranoid, accurate bastards.

"Of course, if you're going to learn them from me," my father began, and I knew what was to come. I should have expected my father to use this as some sort of bargain. Typical conniving Slytherin. "We will learn them _my_ way under _my_ rules. You _will _show me the proper respect as your father, and you _will_ learn when I say you learn, and you will not get expelled from Hogwarts. Got it?"

"Fine," I nodded my consent. Truth be told I was so bored with normal spells and things, that I would do just about anything to learn Dark Arts. Just about. "But I am _not_ getting up in the early hours of the morning."

See? That's the one thing I refuse to do, along with be nice to Dumbledore, but even my father would draw the line there... right? Right?!

* * *

My father is a bloody slave driver! You may or may not know that, but he is, and it really gets on my nerves. You'd think a guy aiming for whatever my father's aiming for (world domination, or some such crap) would loosen up a bit, wouldn't you? But noooooo, he has to be an uptight bastard about, well, everything! He doesn't even relax when it's Christmas! For Marlin's sake (a phrase that greatly annoys my father, since the idea came from a muggle movie about a fish), he really need to chill out!

Now, you may be wondering what brought on this really sudden burst of hatred towards my father, considering now that's I've told you he's teaching me the Dark Arts. Well, I'll tell you. It's Christmas day, and guess what? I WAS UP AT SIX A.M. LEARNING WHAT MY FATHER CALLED 'SELF DISCIPLINE'! I don't need self discipline! I'm disciplined enough, thank you very much! Bloody bastard.

He obviously doesn't realise that on Christmas day I would rather sleep in. You know, I'm starting to regret agreeing to his terms. In fact, I'm almost starting to regret agreeing to learn the Dark Arts... Almost. I'm not quite stupid enough to, especially considering the fact that, apparently, I'm almost ready to use the Avada properly on a human - and can you guess who that human will be?

**A/N: **So what do you think? And sorry for the delay I was having a few problems with, uh, stuff.

**Kage Mirai:** That is exactly the reaction I hoped to get.

**Ciara:** That's probably true about the cruciatus, so alternate methods of torture will be needed... I like your idea about The Song being repeated over and over and over. That would be more than enough to send me round the bend. And the howler was delivered at breakfast. I believe what I put exactly was '_The next morning, after a couple of fights in the common room (which I didn't start, but got the blame for anyway) the previous night, I received my first ever howler'_ And you're just given me an idea for some of the next chapter.

**ChaosDream:** Thank ye very muchly!

**MMockler4Tonks:** Simple, he hasn't been arrested for one very simple reason: they have no evidence against him and nothing to incriminate him with the exception of his heritage.

**Ciberloco:** The ways to torture Harry will increase as the story goes on.

**NatalieJ:** But that wouldn't solve anything. Killing me directly after you sent the review if I didn't update wouldn't solve anything, as the next chapter would, kinda, fail to be written.

**Aspid:** Thanks! And I swear I won't write The Song down ever again... unless I can't find the teletubbies theme song!

**NateP:** Of course it's funny! Life is funny! Well, my life is anyway.

**Silver-Entrantress-Elf, Shadowface, :P:** Will do!

**BalrogMan65:** Yeah, I know. I'm almost considering putting Harry through the torture of watching an entire episode of the teletubbies... but that would mean accessing my repressed memories of watching the episodes when they first came on TV.

**HAZZAGRIFF:** Good!

**borne-shadow-childe:** No, I think the real reason we grow to hate kids shows is because we realise that the actual ideas and characters in them are disturbing, not a result of karma or mental trauma. I mean, come on, look at all the little kids stuff that it out there? Kids shows and kids movies too. If you think about it, most of it really is scary. Yeah, you can add me to your Yahoo friends list thingy. I kinda lack people on mine.

**Crouchintiger:** I thought up the Barney bit because it's part of an old running joke between me and my friends. The muggleborn kids ran out of the room because, well, I don't really know. But I do know I would.

**angelkitty77:** Compliments will get you everywhere!

**Marvin the Depressed Robot(42** ::giggles:: Funny death threat!

**HecateDeMort:** I'd hoped as much.

**Talis:** That is a very good saying. Thanks!

**ironic-humour:** I'll update! I'll be good!

**LadyBlackIce01:** Parents are cruel.

**Lady Phoenix Slytherin** I'll try.

**mpDemonOfDoom:** Well, I don't think I've actually revealed how strong Harry is at this point yet.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: **Well, it's about time I updated, don't you think? Silence? Okay, I'll take that as a no. Oh well.

**Disclaimer: **Haven't you got the idea yet?

**Chapter 9**

You know what's a bad thing to do? Prank Death Eaters. It's really not a good idea. Most people wouldn't think so, would they? That it would be fun to pay them back for all of the deaths they caused? Stuff like that? That is total and utter bull. I mean, would you piss off a murderer, megalomaniac or psychopath deliberately? No, you wouldn't, and I wish I had thought of that before I actually did.

Now, you may be wondering what I did exactly. You may be wondering why it was such a bad idea, and why I'm regretting it. You may even be wondering why I'm telling you this. I can tell you the answer to all but the last one. Why I'm telling you this is a question I don't think Einstein could have answered. Or maybe he could have, but I'm not sure. I don't know if he was a psychiatrist, you see, but I do know I'm definitely not.

Right, time to get back on track. Just let me try and remember what that track was... I forgot... And why am I talking about train tracks? Oh, that's right, I'm not. Okay, back to the topic at hand.

Now, the reason for pranking a Death Eater (or, in my case, several Death Eaters) being a bad idea is that they're big on revenge. Oh, they wouldn't lay so much as a spell, curse, hex, charm, potion or finger on me without their precious master's permission, that much was for certain, and they would not be getting that anytime soon, but lets just say that around a large manor such as my father's 'house' accident's tend to happen a lot, especially to people that aren't liked by a large majority of the inhabitants. And what luck! I happen to fit that description! As well as being hated by a large amount of other people! Wonderful news, wouldn't you say?

Okay, so maybe I brought this on myself, what with pranking them, annoying the hell outta them, existing, you know the drill. But I still say I don't deserve this! What don't I deserve I hear you cry, or at least I'm pretending to right now. For the story's and my already doubtable and crumbling sanity's sake, you are asking what I don't think I deserve, understood? No? Well that's just too bad!

Now life has always detested me, I'm sure you would agree. It's always had something in store for me all the time. Now, I believe that this is just another kick in the teeth for me. For, you see (and I've spent about, oh I don't know, four hundred and fifty-ish words getting here) I am now laying at the bottom of a lesser used staircase in the manor, unable to move for some unknown reason, having fallen (pushed may be more accurate) from the top after tripping over something - still not quite sure what it was - pretty much hating the entire world I live in.

Now again I'm pretending to hear you ask, why I fell (tripped). That is really simply and it brings me back to where I started, so isn't that a nice little loop? Absolute spiffing. I, Harry James Potter, only son and heir of the Dark Lord Voldemort, pranked the Death Eaters. And they didn't like it. In fact, they despised it. And so they got their own back. Leading to my predicament. Top hole, wouldn't you say?

The prank I pulled wasn't even that good. It was boring really, not in the slightest bit humiliating. Come on, who would really be embarrased by fuchsia skin, maroon hair and aqua eyes? Oh, and inability to stop randomly bursting out laughing whenever someone more important than them spoke? Plus the fact I kinda sorta managed to get a few of them singing nursery rhymes? I know I wouldn't! Okay, maybe a little.

See? It wasn't that bad! And as revenge, they do this! They make it so I can't fucking move! That's just cruel man! I mean torturing baby animal in front of two heroes some super villain has made fight one another to the death in said super villain's sadistic, ironic humour cruel. Well, maybe I'm exaggerating just a little - but not much!

And so, because of that one little prank, Pansy Parkinson (the right little bitch) started walking with me around the manor, leading directly towards _that bloody staircase!_ Oh, I should have seen something like this coming, you know. I mean, all the Death Eaters and their kids have always hated, especially after they found out the truth about my parentage, and as I was walking with Pansy she kept checking around her, as if expecting something to happen or for someone to follow her. I just dismissed it off as slight paranoia or something. I knew I should have paid closer attention.

And so that's how I ended up in my current predicament, hating the world more than ever and trying to determine whose fault this is. At this exact moment I have millions, literally, but narrowing it down to plausible possibilities, there's only like twenty left. So far I have three main suspects.

The first person I blame is (as always) my dear ol' dad! After all, I was told countless times during my sixth year when people were trying to rid me of my nonexistent guilt over Sirius' death that everything was always Voldemort's fault.

Next person is Dumbledore. He did always manipulate me and annoyed the hell out of me with _those damned twinklies_ that he calls eyes.

Final person to blame is James Potter. I did hear about a prank he pulled what he was about my age, and that was wear I got my idea from, so it could be said that it's his fault.

Some people may say it's my fault. How is it my fault? All I did was play a harmless little prank on people that could kill me and not regret it. It's not like I have a death wish. Wait, that came out wrong... Oh well, I know what I meant, the rest of ya'll have ta deal!

Finally! I can hear footsteps coming along the hallway. It's about time too, I say! I've been laying here for ages! Like an entire twenty minutes waiting for someone to come! Took them long enough to find me!

Aw man! It's no one that'll help me! It's only Nagini! Stupid Snake! My dad won't even set her on the Dursley's... Stupid bassa. And now that snake is walking away, totally ignoring. Someone really needs to get that stick out of her arse...

Did I just say that she _walked_ away? Dearie me, I'm going delirious. That is a problem, to which I really should be feeling bothered about.

Oh look, spiders... no, make that spider moneys... now sea monkeys... Odd. Very, very odd. I think I'll go sleep now. Nighty night.

**A/N:** That chapter was fun to write. I'm not sure why. It could be that I'm just very odd. Oh well...

**HAZZAGRIFF:** Lol, she did come close to worse in OotP when Vernon said effing. Just not close enough though.

**Kage Mirai:** Lol, that sounds like me on... uh... everyday!

**BalrogMan65:** I've got to have Fudge captured before I kill him. And I don't think there's anything banning Teletubbies, which is so wrong. We need to destroy them.

**BLackhand THe DEstroyer:** Thanks, and I didn't put your review because I couldn't find it. If I could have found it I would have put it.

**Ciara:** lol! Good to see you're learning! Harry didn't think about being worked to exhaustion before he agreed for one very good reason: when in both the books or in this fic has Harry ever thought about the consequences before he takes action? Hmmm... Force Lightning and Force Choke... Interesting... That could work. Magic does seem rather like the force, doesn't it? Always there and only certain people being able to control it?

**NateP:** HARRY WILL NOT BE USING THE KILLING CURSE OF BELLA OR VOLDY! Dumbledore... now that's a whole nother matter.

**ChaosDream:** You should know I rarely kill off my favourite characters, and Bella is definitely one of my favourites. Plus I am not going to kill her off in about the only story in which I have managed to get her insanity in at all, and to a level I'm satisfied with.

**LadyRaven13:** Hasn't the whole Barney thing proved that Voldemort is immensely, tremendously, vastly, immeasurably cruel?

**Lord Ravenclaw:** Ah, I live to make Harry annoy Voldemort. The fact that it's funny without me trying to make its funny is an added bonus.

**Crouchintiger:** Thanks!

**Marvin the Depressed Robot(42:** Whoa, okay... that sounds a lot like a line from certain book I'm reading at the minute... only I'm pretty sure EBay wasn't around when it was first written.

**Lucasfsf:** That's odd, considering it isn't even posted as a humour fic...

**Spezlee:** Yay! Interesting! Yayness! Yay!

**HecateDeMort:** Is there anyway I can get you to leave a review longer than one word, I wonder... I'll have to find out!

**ironic-humour:** You know what I'm finding weird? The face that people are finding this funny even though I never meant it to be funny. Maybe I should post this as a humour fic...


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N:** Well, right now I'm writing this on paper, totally bored. What fun! ::rolls eyes::

**Disclaimer:** If I owned Harry Potter I would be typing this on the newest computer, not the one I am actually typing this on.

**Chapter 10**

Do you know what the most ironic thing about being the son of the Dark Lord, and waking up in a bed after some of his servants kids shoved me down some stairs in his manor, hoping that it would kill me, simply because I pranked them? The fact that the sheets were white.

I'm serious. To me that's really ironic. He's not only a _DARK_ wizard, but he's also the _DARK_ Lord with a load of _DARK_ wizards and witches serving him. So, I ask you, what are dark colours? Colours like black and navy are dark colours. Hell, a lot of shades of most colours are dark colours. But is white a dark colour? No. And it really annoys me.

Never mind the fact that white is a really easy colour to tell when it's mucky, and therefore dangerous to anyone who is ill, it still isn't a dark colour, which isn't at all fitting for my father's 'big, badass dark wizard' image. And I hate the colour white. The whole 'it isn't a colour, it's a shade thing' has been pitched to me way too many times.

"You took your time waking up."

I jumped as I heard my father's voice. Damn he's creepy, with the whole screeching high pitched thing. It always makes my skin crawl. I think he deliberately speaks like that, you know, because he realises how much it gets on everyone's nerves.

"So?" I asked him, not really caring.

"So you have to be back at Hogwarts tomorrow."

I hadn't looked at him until this point in time. Now I did. I glared full out at him wishing he had been drowned at birth... On second thoughts, maybe not at birth, considering the fact that I wouldn't have been born if that happened, but maybe about eight months after my contraception. Yeah! That works! Then I'd still be alive and would get to meet my mother!

"I still have to go back there?" I asked, distaste clear on my voice.

"Yes," he said firmly, and I could tell this was going to be an interesting conversation.

"Why?" I challenged him.

"Because I said so." Hah! What a weak excuse. Everyone uses it all the time!

"That's not a reason," I simply stated. At this point he started to get pissed off.

"Fine," he growled. "If you don't go back to Hogwarts and stay there for the rest of the year you will not be learning anymore Dark Arts."

I scowled at him. He's a total prick. How was I supposed to kill the Dursleys now?! Well, I suppose I could use poison, or even muggle methods... Like a knife in the back, or a chainsaw taking off their heads, or death by vending machine, or maybe I could strangle them with clothes, or... well, now I'm getting a bit creative with my ways of killing without magic. It's fun.

"And don't even think about killing those muggles in a muggle way!"

Dammit, how did he know what I was thinking?

"Fine," I spat out, when I realised I was not going to win any argument anytime soon. "I'll go back and stay for the rest of the year. Though why you're forcing me to be around Dumbledore is beyond me."

My dad gave a wry smile, which looked odd on his snake-like face.

"Because I like watching you suffer."

He turned to leave the room. Damn him! Why does he have to be so fucking annoying?!

"Oh, and by tradition, one day every seven years the parents of the students of Hogwarts all go to the school for a day. And this is the seventh year since the last one."

My father glided out of the room, leaving me gaping for a moment, then I realised what it would mean. If Hogwarts was to open it's doors to the parents of the students, then dear Old Dad would go, and that would mean possible torture for, well, everyone. It was gonna be great! I was positive of it!

**A/N: **Dammit! So short! I hate this! Why is it I only seem to be able to get out short chapters all of a sudden?! Oh well, it'll end soon. I hope.

**BalrogMan65:** Yayayayayayayay! I'm on the council! I'm on the council! Which is a good thing because I know what the council is now!

**HecateDeMort, Nordik:** Thanks!

**Shadowface:** Harry? Good at passing the blame? Well, the entire world is against him, so it can't be too hard.

**Ciara:** Yeah, Teletubbies is much worse than Barney, fortunately I don't know any of the words to song at the beginning (I'm assuming it has words too). And what I was on about you learning was where, in a review with the Barney torture you missed where Harry got the howler, but then went back and read it after you sent the review.

**ironic-humour:** Okay, sadistic humour. That sounds about right. Because a lot of it is kinda sadistic.

**LadyRaven13:** Good, I just like to get the point across that Voldemort is incredibly cruel.

**HAZZAGRIFF:** You forgot about effing? Effing's the closest the books have come to swearing! How can you forget!

**Nexus3:** Um, no I didn't. The humour has just, kind of, crept in when I wasn't looking. And, to be honest, when I was writing it I honestly didn't think it was funny, I only do when I go back and read it sometimes.

**Crouchintiger:** Lol, thanks. Now that I think about it, Evil!Harry humour is pretty rare.

**Blackhand/Exzlayer:** Yay!

**Marvin the Depressed Robot(42:** Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy.

**Jeztwo: **Why thank you!"


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: **I'm ill and off school, so you lot get a chapter.

**Disclaimer: **I couldn't own Harry Potter if I tried.

**Chapter 11**

You know one major problem with this world? Laws and rules. There are far too many rules and laws telling us what we should and shouldn't do. Don't do this! Don't do that! Do obey these stupid rules that don't even work and are completely ridiculous!

It's true they don't work, you know? Well, you probably don't, but it is true. If they did work then there wouldn't be any need for prisons, nor would we have any convicts, but we do have them both, so the system obviously doesn't work.

Why doesn't the system work, I hear you say because I'm saying that I hear you say this, and no, I am not going insane. Well, the answer to that all boils down to one simple things that is totally worthless yet a lot of people consider it the one thing life could not survive without: money. Think about it for a moment or two. All money is is small disks of something which we have dug out of the ground, melted down and reshaped or small pieces of trees which we have covered in a plant extract or something similar. Pretty worthless, really, and without it we wouldn't have half the troubles we do nowadays.

Of course, it would only happen like that if we hadn't of used the stuff in the first place. If we were to stop using money now we would cause widespread panic and theft. It's stupid really. The world is so corrupt nowadays, and that corruption would have been unlikely to have happened had we not used money in the first place. Of course, we could still be fighting over land and things like that. But I stand by my point! Money is the cause of all problems!

Well, that was a good way for me to waste time and about three hundred words, don't you agree? Oh well, I suppose you want me to tell you what happened next now, don't you? That's easy to answer; I got hyper.

How did I get hyper? I bet you probably don't want to know how, but I feel like telling you all, and the answer's pretty simple anyway, so you're stuck unless you were to suddenly stop reading now, which I couldn't blame you for. In fact, I'm surprised you've read this far without hitting your head multiple times because of all of the clichés that have happened in my life since the person who had been trying to kill me for practically all of my life told me he was my father, which is a cliché in itself.

The answer to how I got hyper is, like I said, pretty simple. You see, I may not look, act or sound like it, but I'm one of those people who gets hyper incredibly easily, a fact I discovered about myself in recent years. My hyperness is also that really scary kind of hyperness that's really random and completely freaks everyone I know out if they aren't hyper too.

Now, fortunately, my hyperness only comes about every few years or so, because it used to freak me out so much. But, this time, my whole avoid hyperness plan got a bit out of hand.

One the day I went back to Hogwarts after Christmas I was fine, completely recovered from my little trip down those stairs and having had the people who were involved in it apologise to me because my father forced them. I even got to London to get on the Hogwarts Express early. I got there so early, in fact, that I decided to take a tiny little detour that would only take a few minutes into muggle London. Nothing could happen in such a short amount of time, I thought to myself, I'd be perfectly fine! So I went.

The thing as that I went to one of the muggle supermarkets, one that was quite close to King's Cross. It was Asda, I can remember that much really clearly, and even if I couldn't, I'm pretty sure I could have remember the green sign proclaiming the supermarket's name, along with the smiley yellow coin that was everywhere announcing that Roll Back was going on. It was really annoyingly bright and cheerful.

You probably can't imagine my surprise when I found I had some muggle money with me (probably planted on me, I thought in paranoia), but it was huge. I never carried muggle money around with me! I rarely ever carried _money_ around with me at all! So I did what any one even remotely like me would do! I headed for the aisle where the sweets were.

The sweets aisle in a supermarket is, as you probably know, a wonderful place. It's almost like Honeydukes, only inside a bigger store that contained almost every other thing you could want and it didn't contain the magical variety of sweets. There was still loads there though.

Looking along then, I could instantly tell which ones would send me incredibly hyper, whether I knew from the short period of time I had recieved pocket money from the Dursleys and spent on sweets which sent me so hyper the Dursleys decided never to give me pocket money again, or they were similar to the magical ones. Other's I wasn't so sure about.

First I looked at a pack of jellybabies, and decided to get them, which I have yet to eat. Then I noticed I was running short on time, so I just grabbed somethings thtat I could afford with my limited fund and knew I wouldn't get hyper on and went to buy them.

The person at the checkout wasn't exactly friendly. She was called Dave according to her nametag, and unless she was called something like Davina, I figured it would be a mistake. She looked at me like I was the scum of the earth, possibly, from the look of her, because I didn't have a visible tattoo. She scanned my items, I paid her and left, wanting to get away from her. She was just plain creepy! Even compared with my father!

I got back to King's Cross without any trouble and onto platform nine and three-quarters with only a few moments to spare.

When the train was pulling out of the station I finally looked inside my carrier bag from Asda and saw properful for the first time what I bought. Jellybabies were the first thing I saw, making me realise how morbid they really were. They could silently promote cannabalism, since they were human shaped. Oh well.

I also saw what I had grabbed. There was one packet of mint imperials, one pack of ordinary tictacs and two packs of spearmint polos.

Ah, polos, my one true love, they are the best things in the world. Polos are, in case you didn't know, are flat, circular disks of whatever that minty stuff they use to make mints in, with a hole in the middle and the word polo written twice around the top of them. The spearmint ones have little blue bits in them. They come in packs of about twenty on average, and they send me incredibly hyper.

How hyper exactly do they send me? Well, it took about three days for me to calm down after my frist one, and I've still got about another thirty nine to go! Plus everything else that I bought! Fortunately no one has discovered exactly what sent me so unbelievably hyper, so I still have them! But back to my story!

Well, I decided that if I was going to open the mint imperials then I'd probably have to eat them all in one go, the same for the jellybabies, so I put those aside for later. So that left me with the polos or the tictacs. Since I had more polos, I figured they would last me longer.

The smell of polos is wonderful. I don't think I've said that yet, so I'll say it again for good measure: the smell of polos is wonderful. It smells of, well, polos! So minty, so fresh, so wonderful! I do love the smell of polos in the morning, just like a lot of people love the smell of freshly cut grass or meat being cooked, both, incidentally, are smells I happen to hate, but I don't feel like going into that just yet.

The only thing better than the smell of a polo is the taste. It's wonderful, perfectly minty, as I found out when I ate one. And then things started to go wrong. I'm not completely sure what happened then, but after some of the sugar from the polos got into my blood I can't seem to remember a thing of, apart from breaking out into uncontrolably fits of hysterics every few moments, and sprouting on about rabbits taking over the world and spoons stopping them, all for the next three days. I think I may have freaked quite a few people out when I was hyper, because now, everyone around school looks at me like they're terrified (with a few exceptions) rather than simply hating me. Fun, eh?

I'm not actually sure when I should eat my next polo, but I do want to eat the majority of them, along with the rest of the sweets I bought before summer. If I took any back with me my father would probably destroy them, which would be a total waste.

**A/N: **Dammit! You know what I swore to myself a couple of weeks ago when I updated Powers of Darkness? I swore I would never upload anything under 2000 words! And now look what I've done! This is like 418 words short! Not fair!

**momma-dar: Yep, fun idea, isn't it?**

**Blackhand/Exzlayer:** Will do!

**Lord Ravenclaw: **Yes, Harry pranking Death Eaters. He doesn't tend to think things through that much, you see.

**LadyRaven13:** Well... considering it's Dumbledore, I'd say he's both stupid and has some kind of a plan.

**ciberloco:** I may move it, I have yet to decide if I will.

**Ranchan17: **Something will happen soon. I'm sure of it.

**ironic-humour:** Lol! But Voldie doesn't get to Hogwarts for a couple of chapters yet.

**Slimpun:** Hey, I like putting in Harry's comments.

**Wanamaker: **You lost my story?! Oh well, you found it, which is good.

**HAZZAGRIFF:** Ok... Glad you like the death by vending machine thing. It's a fun way to die! Crushed by snack foods!

**NateP:** The old fashion way of course!

**Silverscale:** Well, I wouldn't say I'mamazing... splendiferous, maybe, but not amazing. Glad you like the fic.

**Night-Owl123:** Okay!

**Ciara:** You can bet that Voldie will get many complaints on Harry's classroom behaviour from the professors. It's one chapter I'll really looking forwards to writing. I started reading Harry Potter Year 6: WAR! ages ago, but for some reason I stopped. I'll probably start reading it again soon.

**jez two:** You've got to be the first person I've ever heard of liking short chapters. Which is great for me.

**Shania Maxwell:** Okay! Killing people is fun!

**crouchintiger:** It should be fun to write as well.

**Nordik:** Thanks!

**Snuffles-dog25:** Cliff-hanger? I left a cliff-hanger? Sorry, but I hadn't realised.

**123:** That's great to know! I love where it's going too!


End file.
